


Femme Fatale

by toxicpoisonedyouth



Series: Crowley has a Coochie (vagina) [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Other, There's A Tag For That, Wow, because, crowley likes to shop, female crowley is davina, fuck me up michael sheen, god bless her soul, grow the beard back michael, my bussy thirsts, thats my favorite tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicpoisonedyouth/pseuds/toxicpoisonedyouth
Summary: “Crawly!” Aziraphale turned in surprise. He thought he had felt a tap on the other side of his shoulder…“So what’s this about then, eh?” Crawly asked, looking around.Aziraphale didn’t even notice his robes, the rope around his thin waist cinch it, like how most of the women wore their robes. His long red hair blew in the wind as he squinted up at the boat.“The Great Plan.” Aziraphale replied timidly. He didn’t really want to drown all the people, they were only just beginning! And they had been doing so well...“So what? She’s gonna drown all the people ‘cept for some smelly animals?” Crawly asked.“Not all of them… just the locals,” Aziraphale said. “She isn’t really mad at Africa. Or China. Or - or, well, or Australia..”Crawly scoffed, “Least not yet.”





	Femme Fatale

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Davina](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19984723) by [starkhasheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkhasheart/pseuds/starkhasheart). 

> yo yo yo what up
> 
> so my favorite thing is female crowley and the fact that she's beautiful (but so is male crowley) so i just had to write this. this is somewhat inspired by a post on tumblr but also by that video of davina on youtube (pretty sure i came untouched while watching that)
> 
> anyways!! there's lots of talking about crowley's tits because... well why not

**3004 B.C., Mesopotamia **

♀

The first time Crowley presented as female was when he (Aziraphale hadn’t known she was a woman at the time, if he had, he would’ve used the proper pronouns) arrived to see Noah's ark cast off. He was still going by ‘Crawly’ at this time.

Aziraphale wasn’t expecting the demon to show up, but was pleasantly surprised none the less.

“Hello, Aziraphale!” he had said, seemingly overjoyed to see the angel.

“Crawly!” Aziraphale turned in surprise. He thought he had felt a tap on the other side of his shoulder…

“So what’s this about then, eh?” Crawly asked, looking around. 

Aziraphale didn’t even notice his robes, the rope around his thin waist cinch it, like how most of the women wore their robes. His long red hair blew in the wind as he squinted up at the boat.

“The Great Plan.” Aziraphale replied timidly. He didn’t really want to drown all the people, they were only just beginning! And they had been doing so well...

“So what? She’s gonna drown all the people ‘cept for some smelly animals?” Crawly asked.

“Not all of them… just the locals,” Aziraphale said. “She isn’t really mad at Africa. Or China. Or - or, well, or Australia..”

Crawly scoffed, “Least not yet.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at the demon.

“It’s in -”

“Don’t say ‘ineffable’,” Crawly said. Aziraphale closed his mouth. “You - you were gonna say ineffable weren’t you?”

“I… yes.”

They fell into silence again until a unicorn made a break for it, to which Crawly called to the attention of Shem.

Odd. Aziraphale thought Crawly knew nothing of the flood. But yet he knew Noah’s son.

Strange.

  
  


**33 A.D., Golgotha**

♀

The second time Crowley presented as female, Aziraphale thankfully noticed.

“Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?” Crawly said as he meandered up behind Aziraphale.

“Smirk? Me?” Aziraphle said in disbelief. He glanced at Crawly, taking in the black robes, form fitting and tied at the waist. It was the cloth over his head that gave it away, covering his long hair.  _ Oh _ , the angel thought to himself.  _ Right, yes, female pronouns then _ . “You look different.”

“Mm? Oh, yeah, thought I’d change it up a bit,” she drawled, touching her hair. “New hairstyle, might as well change my name while ’m at it.”

“Name? “ Aziraphale wondered. That wasn’t what he had meant when he said different. He had been talking about the demon’s more pronounced curves.

“Yeah. ‘S not ‘Crawly’ anymore.” she said, watching as Jesus cried out in agony.

“Oh? What is it now?  _ Asmodus _ ? “ Aziraphale scoffed.

“Crowley.” she replied. Aziraphle hummed. It wasn’t too bad.

“I had been talking about your form. Decided to try out female?” Aziraphale smiled at bit. Craw - Crowley looked down at her body, hands on her hips.

“ ’Ve  _ been  _ female,” she said, staring her golden eyes at Aziraphale. “ ‘Member? Noah’s ark?”

Aziraphale’s brows drew up in surprise, then he flushed with embarrassment.

“Right. Yes. I do remember now,” he said softly. There was a pause. “Well, you do look lovely.”

“Oh, shut up.” Crowley sneered, though her cheeks told a different story. She hid her face in her scarf.

  
  


**1134, Camelot**

♀

Knighthood was a very saintly activity. After 537, Aziraphale stayed as Sir Aziraphale, now serving for King Arthur of the Round Table. He was quite pleased with his title.

It was a warm day in May, a joust was being held three miles from Camelot so Aziraphale, Sir Lancelot, and Sir Guy packed their horses and set off, seeing that maybe they could find a new member for the Round Table.

Once there, Guy pranced off to speak with the lady in waiting, leaving Aziraphale and Lancelot to find their places to watch the joust. They sat near the noble stands, reserved for the Duke and Duchess of Sexton, the village they were in. 

“Who are the knights to joust?” Aziraphale asked Lancelot as he munched upon a bit of mutton. Not too bad, the wine was marvelous though.

“Sir Duncan and Sir Launce. Sir Duncan is who we have came to recruit.” Lancelot replied, sipping at his own glass of wine.

“So even though the joust is to see who will be the next member of the table round, we’ve already picked our winner?” Aziraphale furrowed his brows in confusion. “That seems unfair.”

Lancelot chuckled, “This isn’t for us. If it was, we'd gotten better seats.”

Aziraphale raised a brow as he took another sip of his wine.

“Then who is it for?” he asked his fellow knight. Lancelot pointed up to the noble stand. There, in a plush seat, sat a woman with fiery red curls that reached her back. She wore a long black gown, made of satin or silk, with large billowing sleeves. Her corset is patterned with silver flowers that bloom into beautiful roses. Her breasts peaked over the corset slightly, the strings pulled tight to accent them, to push them against the bodice so they nearly burst over. They’re smaller than average but just as lovely, fits her perfectly with her thin frame, for she’s almost stick like. The only difference is her broad shoulders and how tall she is. A small crown sat upon her curls, a matching black veil covering her face, which is a shame because she is probably just as beautiful as her body is.

She looked familiar, Aziraphale thought, but couldn’t place her in his mind. If only he could see her face.

Sir Guy arrived and took a seat next to Aziraphale.

“What I miss?” he asked, chewing on a bite of turkey leg in his hand.

“Nothing so far,” Lancelot replied. “I was just telling Aziraphale about the Lady.”

“Ah,” Guy smiled. “Gorgeous, she is.”

“You’ve seen her face?” Lancelot asks in disbelief. Guy chews and takes a sip of Aziraphale’s wine. The angel grimaces and quickly miracles up another.

“No, but I was just talking to Maryann, the lady in waiting, and she said the Lady has many suitors but won’t take any,” Guy explained. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in close, so only the knights could hear. “I was also told the Lady has been…  _ dallying _ .”

Aziraphale scrunched his face again.

“She what?” he asked. Lancelot gasped, ignoring Aziraphale’s comment.

“She’s no virgin?” he said quietly.

Guy nodded, then added, “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aziraphale turned to the stand, watching as the Lady stood and she was indeed, quite tall. 

“Hear ye! Hear ye! May the knights please step forward? The Lady would like to speak.” the town crier called. 

The knights, Launce and Duncan, stepped forth. Duncan was on the right, his head was shaved and glinted in the sunlight, his reddish beard pulled into knots in front of him, so he couldn’t be harmed from the fight. He had a strong jaw and a bold nose, the purple of the crest bringing out the blue in his eyes.

He was quite handsome, if Aziraphale was being honest.

The other, Launce, was about the same height as Duncan, maybe 6 foot - ish Aziraphale could guess. The Lady might be taller than both, actually. He had long brown hair, that cut off just at his shoulders, with a five o’clock shadow and a charming smile. He was thinner than Duncan, but not by much.

“Gentlemen,” the Lady spoke softly. Aziraphale  _ knew  _ that voice. “Today you shall be fighting for my affections. May the best of luck bestow you both and stuff.”

She turned to go back to her seat when Maryann pointed to her sleeve.

“Oh yeah,” the Lady said as she pulled out her handkerchief. “And you get this… thingy too,” she tossed down the white cloth and it landed on the ground before the men, who, dressed in full armor, both struggled to bend over and retrive it. Duncan got it in the end. “Yeah, best of luck, fellas.”

Aziraphale  _ definitely knew _ who that was. It had been so long since he had seen her, but he could never forget the snark his demonic companion held. 

The knights took their places, preparing for the match. The Lady got up, most likely to fetch a drink of some sort.

“What a beaut,” Guy said as he watched her. “I’d give anything to be with Lady Crowley.”

Aziraphale nearly choked on his gulp of wine. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I must go refill my drink.” he lied, for his wine had already refilled itself 4 times but he needed to speak to the demon.

He caught her just in time, grabbing her arm as she left the stand.

“Oi! Get ya - “ she yelled, but Aziraphale cut her off.

“Crawly!” he said joyfully. “I - I mean, Crowley!”

“Aziraphale?” she said in surprise as he whipped her head around. Now that she was closer, Aziraphale saw the soft glow of golden eyes behind the veil. It was Crowley. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Sir Lancelot and Sir Guy, we’re here to recruit a new member of the Table Round,” he replied. “What are you doing here? And how did you become a noble?”

Crowley sighed deeply and looked around before dragging the angel to a gatehouse of the castle, the guard let them through with a grunt from Crowley. She led his up the stairs and then into a room where they could oversee the festivities and joust. She pulled up her veil and yes, it was Crowley, Aziraphale reassured himself for the 2nd time.

“ ‘S for a temptation,” she explained. “Gotta corrupt the winning knight with some… influences. ‘M not actually a lady, they just  _ think  _ I am. False memories and all. Everything will go back to normal after the temptation, ‘t’ll be like I was never ‘ere.”

“Influences?” Aziraphale asked. “What kind of influences? Nothing too bad, I hope.”

Crowley scoffed, “No, ‘s nothing too bad. Just a little… y’know.” 

She waved her hand fleetingly as to further articulate her meaning. Aziraphale raised a brow in confusion but realised Crowley probably wouldn’t tell him.

“Oh.” was all he said.

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, shuffling her feet. “All part of the job, innit?”

“I - I suppose.” the angel replied, like he knew.

“ ‘S not too much, is it? Was really worried I got the breasts wrong. Think they’re too small?” she looked down at herself, hands pulling the corset down a bit and pushing her breasts up. Aziraphale blushed and shook his head.

“They’re just perfect, my dear,” he said. “Fits you well.”

“Thanks.” she replied. There was a pause, where neither one could think of what to say to the other. “Suppose I’ll get back to it, then. The tempting.”

She pulled down the veil and cover her face, turning to leave when Aziraphale grabbed her arm again.

“I..” he started. “Maybe we could catch a drink later? Or - or a bite? Just for old times sake?”

Crowley looked like she was fighting the urge to smile. She turned her face away and cleared her throat loudly.

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” she said. “I’ll, uh, be at the castle. Hope that isn’t too hard to find,” she picked up the edge of her dress and Aziraphale released her arm. “Oh actually, um, just use the passage under the, uh, this gatehouse, it goes straight to the tavern. I’ll meet you at the stairs.”

And then she was gone.

Aziraphale smiled to himself and went back to his seat as well.

  
  


♀

Sir Launce collapsed off his horse after a final blow from Sir Duncan’s lance. Duncan raised it in victory as the crowd rose to cheer. His horse trotted over to the noble’s stand and Maryann ushered for Crowley to stand, who did so only the slightest bit reluctantly. Duncan raised his helmet and smiled at her, to which she leaned down and kissed his cheek, just after she whispered something in his ear. He nodded and the crowd cheered again as he pumped his lance in triumph as he disappeared to rid of his armor. 

Aziraphale watched as Crowley hugged the Duke and Duchess, thanking them for their hospitality or something or other. Aziaphale stood as did Sir Guy and Lancelot.

“I suppose it’s time to recruit our newest member, yes?” Aziraphale asked. Lancelot and Guy looked at each other, then at Aziraphale. They burst out laughing.

“Let him get a taste of his new lady first,” Guy chuckled. “Then we’ll ask him.”

“Oh, surely they aren’t… “ the angel trailed off once he saw the knights’ faces. “Well… I…” Aziraphale blushed as he looked away back to the stand. Crowley was gone.

“We’ll meet you later,” Lancelot replied, patting Aziraphale on the back. “Maybe you should find something like Duncan has. You could use a bit of relaxation.”

The two knights as they walked off.

Aziraphale pursed his lips at this. Crowley would never. He shook his head from those thoughts and went to the gatehouse. He looked at the guard and almost by a miracle, he let the angel through. He went down the stairs and noticed it was very dark. He took off his helmet and set it on the top step, he’d pick it up on his way back. Aziraphale took a torch down from it’s place, holding it out to light his way down the damp staircase.

She said she would meet him at the stairs, but where were the stairs? He slowly walked down a dark corridor, his boots clacking against the stone floor. 

A groan caused Aziraphale to pause. It was coming from just around the corner. His torch wasn’t the only thing creating light, someone else had lit one. There was another groan and the sound of fabric rustling. Then, a quiet slick friction.

Aziraphale peeked around the corner.

There, against a wall and under a torch, was Sir Duncan with his trousers pooled around his ankles, around his waist was a pair of legs, locked at the ankle at the knight’s lower back as he roughly thrusted in and out.

It was Crowley.

_ Oh _ .  _ That’s  _ what she meant by ‘temptation'.

Her head was leaned back against the wall as she was shucked up and down at a rapid pace, arms wrapped around Duncan’s neck to stay upright. She was moaning loudly, gasping at every thrust. Her breasts were out of their corset prison, one covered by Duncan’s hand while the other bounced freely, the nipple dark and peeked from the cold. Her veil was still over her face and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“Oh,  _ angel _ .” she moaned. 

“Yes, please, call me that again.” Duncan panted as he thrusted deeper into her body.

Aziraphale didn’t stay to find out if she did. Nor did he stay to find out if there would be a new member of the Round Table.

They didn’t end up having that drink.

  
  
  


**1926, London**

♀

Aziraphale didn’t see Crowley again until 1926 when Aziraphale had happened into a speakeasy. That’s when he saw Crowley presenting as female for the first time since he had seen his demonic companion's sort of temptation.

Aziraphale wasn’t new to speakeasies, he was part of an exclusive gentlemen's club, so the smokey, laughter filled rooms weren’t unfamiliar. Aziraphale took a seat at the bar, ordering himself a glass of their finest wine. It was okay.

A flapper wandered over and draped herself over his shoulders.

“What in Hell’s name are you doing here?” she hissed in his ear. Aziraphale sputtered into his glass, turning to look at the flapper.

When he did, he smiled widely. She was tall, maybe 6 foot at least, and she wore heeled shoes, which made her even taller. Her legs were clad in fishnet stockings, black garters holding them at her thighs. Black fringe hung around her lower hips, stopping just above the garters, brushing them with every move of her hips. The dress itself was what drew Aziraphale’s attention. It was a deep black, and in sequins, was a large snake that wrapped around her body. Draped across her shoulders was a dark red boa, long black gloves covered her arms up to her biceps, silver bracelets around her wrists. A long pearl necklace was looped around her neck and hung by her breasts, where her nipples peaked against the fabric of the dress. A black, sequined headband was wrapped around her short, red, curly, bob with a dark red feather that was clipped to the side, matching the color of the boa. Small black eyeglasses sat on her nose, but Aziraphale knew what color of eyes were behind the dark lenses. Rogue was on her cheeks and dark red lipstick held a wicked grin.

“ _ Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale absolutely beamed. “You look so lovely.”

Crowley snorted and sat down next to the angel.

“Yeah, thanks,” she waved off the compliment. She ordered a glass of whiskey. “Anyways, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I could ask you the same thing,” Aziraphale countered, sipping at his wine.

Crowley looked at him over her glasses.

“What do you think? ‘M here for a temptation.” she replied, turning her attention to her drink.

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale blushed. “I, ah, am here for not quite the same thing.”

“Wouldn’t think so,” Crowley smirked, turning in her chair and draping her arm over the back. “A blessing then?”

“Somewhat,” Aziraphale said, casting a glance behind him. “I’m here to help guide a young man away from a difficult path. His name is Jay Gatsby.”

Crowley raised a brow.

“As in ‘The Great Gatsby'?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes, he has a terrible addiction and may die if he isn’t careful,” Aziraphale replied, looking back at his frie - enemy. “How do you know him?”

Crowley grinned. “He’s my temptation.”

“Oh! Well, ah, well that’s -“ Aziraphale sputtered.

“Quite,” Crowley said, taking another drink of her whiskey, which as seemingly refilled itself in the past two minutes. “Bit of a shame…”

“Oh?” 

“Ngk… well, one of us could always… y’know,” she gestured with her hand. “Do… something about it.”

“C - Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped at his companion’s implication. He hadn’t thought about The Arrangement since… well since 1601. Crowley had helped him out with Edinburgh. and Hamlet. Aziraphale smiles at the memory, that had been so nice of Crowley to do.

She shrugged.

“Was just a suggestion, we don’t have to do it,” Crowley said. “But… it is an option.”

Aziraphale paused, lolling the thought over in his head. He could always say no to his companion and carry on with his angelic duties. Or… he could… put it in the hands of Crowley…

“But wouldn’t it be more paperwork? For - For our respective sides, I mean.” Aziraphale said hastily, glancing over his shoulder as though Micheal was going to appear behind him and swat his hand, then paste a large ‘bad angel’ sign on his forehead.

Crowley shrugged again, sipping her drink as she leaned against the bar.

“Not really. It all goes down on the papers as checked and done, no extra paperwork to be filed,” she said, then grinned. “ ‘Course I didn't think you’d mind giving Gabriel a bit of work.”

Aziraphale bit back a smile.

“N - No! Of course not!” he stuttered. Crowley raised a brow but shrugged it off, draining her glass.

“ ‘M not saying you ‘ave to do it, just letting you know we can,” she said, setting the glass down. She leaned in closer and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek, leaving the angel blushing as she whispered in his ear. “But if we were to do it,  _ hypothetically _ , it’d be your turn. Since I took care of Hamlet  _ and _ Edinburgh last time,”

She stepped back and slid her eyeglasses down her nose a bit, winking at the angel before pushing them back up.

“But who’s counting?”

And with that, the demon sauntered away back into the crowd as the jazz music seemed to roar back to life.

♀

Aziraphale smiled as Jay Gatsby wandered off, the keys wrapped tightly in his palm. Aziraphale had done it, both the celestial guiding and the temptation. As a thank you, Jay had handed over the keys (this was the temptation actually) to his Bentley. The angel stood, dusting off his jacket and scanned the room for Crowley. He spotted her on the floor, dancing with some bloke who’s hands were much too comfortable on her narrow hips (not that the angel was jealous.) He marched over, tapping on the man’s shoulder and the man politely nodded, turning the demon over to Aziraphale.

“Fancy finding you here, angel,” Crowley whispered into his ear, laying her head against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his neck, while the other covered the hand that Aziraphale had placed on her hip. “Didn’t know you could dance.”

“I’ve picked up some things here and there, my dear,” he told her. He spun her around dramatically, relishing in her gasp and he pulled her back in. She chuckled and clasped his hand with her own, swaying them to the music. It had slowed down to a more romantic tune almost by a miracle. “... I took care of it.”

“Both?” Crowley asked quietly. Aziraphale nodded and she placed his lips to his cheek, lightly planting a kiss there. “Thank you.” 

Aziraphale blushed as the music echoed around them. It sounded so far away, the angel was so focused on the beautiful demon before him. The keys in his pocket jingled against her hip lightly and she chuckled deeply in her ear.

“Is there something in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she grinned. Aziraphale blushed deeply and took the keys out. 

“They’re proof of your temptation,” he placed them in her hand and closed her palm around them, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “You had been so enamored by his car you just had to have it for yourself. Or for a certain demon you were close to.”

Crowley smirked at her angel.

“Come on, angel,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go for a spin.”

Even though she couldn’t drive, Crowley loved the car.

She kept it for the rest of her life.

  
  
  


**2008, London**

♀

Crowley didn’t present as female for a very, very long time. Not until 2008, the year the antichrist was born. They had made the plan of raising the antichrist together, a way to level out the good and evil of each other. Aziraphale took to role of the kind gardener, Brother Francis, of the Dowling estate. It was a wild getup, adding terribly fake teeth, mutton chops, and a lousy West Cockney accent. Aziraphale didn’t even see Crowley’s outfit (or character) until 2 days later, while she was strolling through the garden with Warlock in a bassinet. 

“G’day, miss,” Aziraphale greeted the nanny cheerfully. “Might I offer ye’ a rose?”

“Really, angel, enough with the flattery.” Nanny said as she picked the wee babe and cuddled him to her chest.

“C - Crowley?” Aziraphale said surprised, his accent dropping.

“Well, who else would it be?” she smirked. “Were you expecting the easter bunny?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, turning his attention back to the hedges he had been trimming.

“No but… Well it’s been awhile since I saw you in your female form,” Aziraphale said. “Not thought I mind.”

“What’s the name you’ve claimed?” Aziraphale asked her. She untucked one of her breasts from her blouse and brought Warlock to her swollen nipple.

“Ashtoreth. Lilith Ashtoreth,” she smiled at the babe. She looked back at Aziraphale, raising a brow. “And why the gardener disguise? You can barely keep those roses alive.”

Aziraphale sighed as he looked over at the wilting flowers.

“Yes, they… They have been struggling,” Aziraphale looked back at her. “When did you start feeding?”

Crowley shrugged. 

“Mrs. Dowling asked if I could and I said yes. So here we are, letting someone else’s baby suck on my tit,” she replied. There was a pause. “We should get back to the house.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. He looked at the rose he had plucked for her. He walked to Crowley and trimmed the stem a bit, then tucked it behind her ear. “Pip pip, my dear.”

Crowley smiled and rolled his eyes, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

“See you around, angel.” 

  
  


♀

It happened several years later, 7 months after Warlock had turned 6. Crowley and Aziraphale were supposed to leave in 2 months time. Aziraphale wasn’t aware it had happened until the next morning when the police had shown up at the estate.

Aziraphale bustled to the kitchen where the staff was crowded. 

“Where’s Nanny?” He asked the cook, Annie.

“You didn’t hear?” she gasped. She pointed over to the staircase where someone wrapped in a blanket sat. “A man broke into the house last night and… and took advantage of Miss Ashtoreth.”

Aziraphale’s heart stopped.

“W-What? Took advantage?” Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

He looked over at and noticed that it was a Crowley sitting on the stairs. An officer came over and gave her a cup of coffee. gathering his wits, Aziraphale went to her side.

“Crow— Lilith,” he said, sitting next to her. “Is everything okay?”

Crowley looked at him and smiled softly.

“ ‘M fine, angel. Just fine.”

Crowley didn’t talk to him for another month. When he finally went to talk, Crowley had left.

That was the last time Crowley had presented as female.

  
  
  


**Present Day, London**

♀

The bell above the door tinkled as another customer walked in. Aziraphale didn’t even bother looking up from his book. That was until someone whistled and the sound of heels clicking against the floor gained the angel’s attention. He glanced up to see a woman walking in. 

She was dressed in a black leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and black heels. Her shirt consisted of a tiny bit of fabric, what teens today called ‘ _ halter tops _ ’ which had “ _ Angel _ ” written in what Aziraphale would call ‘ _ Dracula _ ’ lettering, over the words was a little halo. Her tits were smaller, but perky and her nipples peaked against the shirt. Fiery red curls bounced with her every step, huge black glasses were over her eyes, and her lips were painted a deep red. In her arms were shopping bags from various stores. 

“You’re not gonna believe what I found,” she said as she walked up to the counter. She set the bags down, right on top of the book Aziraphale had open. He took off his glasses, setting them aside as he glared at the woman.  _ Urban Outfitters, Forever 21, Alex Eagle, Oxygen Boutique _ , and a few smaller bags from  _ Victoria’s Secret _ obstructed his view of the woman. She was tall though, he could see her head over the bags. 

From the _ Forever 2 _ 1 bag, she pulled out a white turtleneck crop top and black leather mini skirt. 

“Won’t this looking stunning together?” she asked. Aziraphale pulled a smile, pushing a bag aside so she could see him.

“Yes, but, who… Do I know you?” he asked. The woman’s face blanked.

“Aziraphale. It’s me.” a familiar voice drawled out. The same voice that had called the angel to tell him about the Antichrist.

“C-Crowley?!” Aziraphale gasped. She smiled and leaned her glasses down to the tip of her nose. Bright golden eyes colored in winged eyeliner and mascara peaked over the dark lenses. It was for sure the demon.

Aziraphale stepped around the counter and fully took in Crowley’s new form. Amused, Crowley gave him a little twirl. 

“Y-You look--”

“Flawless? Perfect? Radiant?” Crowley teased.

“ _ Beautiful _ .” Aziraphale smiled. Crowley pushed her glasses back up onto her nose, turning away to hide her blush.

“Shut up,” she said, though Aziraphale knew she didn’t mean it. She walked back over and held up the pink bag from  _ Victoria's Secret _ . “I got something for you too, angel.”

“Oh? Do show me,” Aziraphale hurried over to her as she opened the bag. The bag held a dainty piece of fabric. The angel blushed bright red as she pulled it out and held it up. “Wh-wha--”

“It’s underwear, angel,” Crowley smirked. She walked around Aziraphale and headed up the stairs. “Would you like to see them on me?”

Aziraphale licked his lips and faced his store.

“Ah, yes? Hello!” he said, gaining the attention of the customers. “Yes, hi, I’m Mr. Fell, the owner of this establishment and I would like you all to know that this store is closed as of now.”

“What?” a customer asked. 

“Yes, so do get out right now.” Aziraphale smiled. The customers muttered angrily as they left the store.

Crowley walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist as she kissed his neck lightly.

“Come upstairs, angel.”

She pulled on his arm as she guided him to his bedroom.


End file.
